


Days In The Life of A Beta

by ForgottenChesire



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Domestic Violence Only chapter 4 so far, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Multi, Past Mpreg, a/b/o dynamics, beta!Greg, omega!Anderson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2018-09-06 18:28:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8764168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForgottenChesire/pseuds/ForgottenChesire
Summary: Gregory Lestrade is a simple man. A Beta amongst a sea of Betas. He has a decent job, good friends, children who he wouldn't give up for the world and an ex-wife who isn't actually an ex yet. 
This is a collection of drabbles and one-shots that chronicle Greg's life. It was just a drabble but I've decided to add onto it.





	1. Fecund

**Author's Note:**

> In my version of ABO all three secondary genders can carry or sire children, and I'll likely touch on that in later drabbles. A Fecund is basically a Betas Rut/Heat and lasts three days every three months. Unlike many other ABO fics I won't cash in on the extreme Omega rape/loss of will during these times. There will be mentions of rape and other nasty stuff because it happens in the real world. There will also be some clear biasedness and stereotyping, but I think that is to be excepted in anything that isn't a utopia. Mpreg happened and may happen again.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg wakes up and sorta hates his life. Being a Beta doesn't mean you are free of the troubles of being an Omega or Alpha, it means you get a mix of both worlds.

Greg blinks awake, his mind slowly coming online like an old computer. This means that the discomfort hits him in stages. First to hit is the all-encompassing heat that makes him kick off his blankets. Then the fact that his normally soft sheets that he can sink into are too coarse. And finally the cramps, oh god the cramps.  He whines low in his throat as he rolls out of his bed and onto his floor. From there he crawls into his bathroom.

 

The cool tile and ceramic that he rests on is a balm for his overheating skin. He shudders as he feels himself harden and feels himself get wet. _If this is how bad it is for Betas I dread thinking about how hard it must be for Omegas,_ he thinks morosely. Unlike Omegas and Alphas, Betas tend to have tame Fecund periods which is good, even if Betas have them every three months to an Omega/Alpha’s four. He whines again, wishing he had his Alpha Mate with him but, she no longer loves him, or at least no longer finds him physically attractive. Oh no, she has a new beau who is firm and strong, has never had a child in his life. She leaves him alone, leaves their kids, that is the thanks he gets for bearing their children. She hadn’t wanted to bear them, hadn’t wanted the unpleasantness that came with it, not to mention she didn’t like having to take fertility pills to be able to handle it.

 

There is a soft tap on the bathroom door and Greg cracks open an eye. Standing in the doorway, worry clear on her face is his seventeen-year-old Beta daughter Keira.

 

“Da? Do I need to call the Yard?”

 

“Please? Tell them I may be a bit late. Just need to get my temperature down.”

 

“Da-”

 

“I’m fine love. I promise.”

  
She doesn’t look like she believes him but she backs out of his bathroom. With a deep breath, Greg forces himself to stand up, ignoring the dizziness. He goes back into his room to grab some clean clothes so that he can take a shower. It’s going to be a long day, he just knows it.


	2. Alpha Doesn't Equal Guilty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Alphas and Omegas have gotten more rights, segregation and biased is still there. Just like with the old-fashioned bastards who think women shouldn't wear things shorter than their ankle. Just like some of the assholes who will look down on you for being a different color. Greg hates it and tries to stop it when he can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am an American so please excuse/gently point out any mistakes I've made with the British police force or slang/wording. Greg doing what he does probably isn't how things would work and if this had been an actual case any testimony he got would be thrown out. Mentions of rape, nothing too graphic.

Greg looks inside the interrogation room, taking in the kid that they have brought in for a rapee. And while he may not be Sherlock level smart he isn't stupid. The only reason the kid was brought in is because he has the unfortunate luck of being an Alpha and knowing the victim. His fellow Beta officers are taking turns 'talking' to the young man who is claiming innocence. Greg looks down at the folder holding all the information they have on him. In his humble opinion, the kid didn't do it. There is no way.

 

When the current officer trying to trick the kid into saying something incriminating steps out he approaches her. She's about his height and smells mostly of gun oil, whether that is part of her actual scent or she's trying to overcompensate for something he doesn't know.

 

"Detective Clarke. Can I take a crack at him?"

 

Detective Clarke looks him up and down before shrugging.

 

"Sure. Why not? What can it hurt?"

 

Greg gives her a smile. They've worked together before. Or more like she noticed that one of her cases could be interesting to Sherlock and shoved it at him. Very few of his fellow detectives liked dealing with Sherlock. The look in her blue eyes was one of apprehension. She clearly doesn’t want this to be something that will get the Alpha Consulting Detective sniffing at her case.

 

“Thanks,” he tells her truthfully, flashing her an even bigger smile. The sweet fruity scent of arousal flashes through the gun oil scent that coats her. It shocks him, he knows he isn’t much to look at. Not after carrying three children. The weight never really left him and he’s in his forties now, a good twenty years older than she is. How gray hair and his little pooch could be arousing he doesn’t know. Pushing that aside he walks into the interrogation room. The kid looks up, a defiant look on his face.

 

“I didn’t do it,” the kid declares, “And I ain’t gonna admit to something I didn’t do.”

 

Greg hums, pretending to look through a folder. Just by the set of the kid's jaw, he knows that trying to be nice right away won’t be taken well.

 

“And yous already tried the whole ‘bad constable’, ‘good constable’ so I doubt you’ll play a new role.”

 

“How about one that is very close to believing you?” he asks sitting down across from him. The kid blinks at him.

 

“Your name is Jasper, right? Do you prefer that or Mister Shaw?”

 

“You can call me Jasper.”

 

Greg nods his head.

 

“Okay, Jasper. Now, I can’t blame the others for not believing you.”

 

The kid splutters.

 

“Your alibi is weak at best and completely bollocks at worst. I want to believe you, your records paint you as a rather good kid ‘despite the obvious time bomb’ and you have great grades,” he says, his nose crinkling and putting emphasis on a phrase he hates. Alphas are no more ticking time bombs than Betas are evolutionary leftovers. The kid seems to agree with him, grumbling under his breath about sexist bastards. Greg looks at him sadly.

 

“The world has moved on from old thoughts but not too far. Which is why your alibi is more of a noose than a safety net. ‘I was hanging out with my mates’ that’s your alibi right? Your mates are fellow Alphas, which normally would be fine but you’re looking at being charged with rape of a kid not even old enough to have a secondary gender.”

 

“I wouldn’t do that to her. She’s like a little sister to me. The thought of having sex with her even if she is older makes me gag,” Jasper whispers almost brokenly.

 

“Then help me, help you, Jasper. I believe you. You don’t seem to be the kind to learn how to keep your scent flat when you lie.”

 

Jasper looks down at his hands.

 

“Why should I tell you when I didn’t tell the others?”

 

The defiance is back in his voice. It reminds Greg of Anderson when the man first came into the office, stinking of the bland base scent of Beta that covers his actual scent uncomfortably outing him as something other than a Beta rather than convincing them that he is. Both are putting on a mask for the world. Jasper that he’s tougher than he is, more ready to fight to the death. Anderson that he’s a Beta rather than an Omega.

 

“Because I won’t judge you. I won’t condemn you.”

 

Jasper looks up, the age melts away and god does he remind Greg of his twins. So young and vulnerable.

 

“All right. So I wasn’t with my mates… I was with… Fuck. I was with my lovers. Not like that is going to be much better.”

 

Lovers. Well, that is unexpected.

 

“We ain’t Mated yet. They’re waiting. For what I don’t know. I’m eighteen for fucks sakes, and they ain’t much older than me.”

 

What?

 

“How old are they?”

 

The door behind him opens and he can smell Clarke.

 

“Benny is nineteen and Amelie is twenty-two. Now don’t go giving them trouble we was just hanging. Amelie’s mother and Benny’s stepdad was with us.”

 

“Why didn’t you just say that!?” Clarke cries.

 

“Like you’d fucking believe me! Or you wouldn’t look down on me!? Or you wouldn’t try to hurt them?” he demands, “Hell Amelie could barely convince me and Benny that she wasn’t like yous. Always so quick to blame Alphas or Omegas for shit. Ain’t a single fucking Alpha in the joint and your Omegas are in the shit jobs.”

 

Greg chuckles scooting back as Clarke’s mother instinct comes in and she begins questioning him thoroughly. He can tell that the female Beta has come to the same conclusion he has. Jasper didn’t do it. He sobers a bit when he realizes that there is still a rapist out there somewhere.

 

“Cerys’ neighbor is a prick. He doesn’t like the fact that her parents are both Omegas. Is always leering at her. Have you talked to him?”

  
It’s a start. And even Clarke can see that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As this is now a collection of drabbles/one-shots feel free to leave a prompt or two. If they are shippy they may not be filled. I'm not sure who I'm going to ship Greg with, or if I'm going to ship him with anyone.


	3. What's Wrong With Anderson? Keira's PoV

Keira looks at the man in front of her and bites back a growl. Dad likes him well enough to take the man under his wing, but Keira doesn’t like him. Doesn’t like the way the, she inhales slightly, the Omega treats Sherlock, the way he talks about Sherlock.

 

“Mister Anderson,” she’s proud of how even she keeps her voice. None of the conflicting emotions are in her voice. The Omega before her smells strongly of sugar, thick and cloying it sticks to her nose and makes smelling anything else impossible. Dimly as she tries to fight back the scent she remembers that he dad said that Anderson hides his actual secondary gender. That he only guess that Anderson is an Omega. Something has to be wrong. It can’t be normal.

 

“Shit,” she whispers pulling the lost and messy looking man into the house. The scent of sugar clings to her hands no matter how hard she scrubs them on her pants. She doesn’t think this is a Heat scent but she’s never been around an Omega in Heat. Anderson doesn’t move from where she pulled him into the entryway of the house. He’s just wringing his hands, not talking or even looking around which isn’t normal. Dad is out shopping so he isn’t home. Oh god, he isn’t home. It’s just her.

 

“Anderson?” she calls out dropping the ‘mister’ and hoping sounding more like dad will help. He doesn’t respond and her heart starts to race.

 

  
“Philip?” she tries reaching out to touch his arm. His large blue find her and seem to bore into her very soul.

 

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he whispers so softly she has to lean in to hear it, “Is… is your dad home?”

 

“He went to the store. But he’ll be right back. Please, come have a seat. Do you need a drink?”

 

Anderson blinks slowly like he’s digesting her words, or he’s drugged. Then just as slowly as he blinked he shakes his head with a manic laugh. Worriedly she flitters around him, guiding him into the front room but not knowing what all to do to help him.

 

“Is there  _ anything _ I can do?”

 

She doesn’t like how he’s acting. Too spacey, to docile. Where is his snark? He staggers and Keira forces him into a chair. Then with shock and a little bit of fear she sees that he’s crying. It takes everything in her not to flail around like a scared child.

 

“She… she kicked me out. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I did wrong. She never tells me what I did wrong so I can fix it,” he whimpers brokenly. He curls into himself as he cries. Haltingly she reaches out and runs her hand through his shaggy brown hair, much like her dad often does for her when she’s crying.

 

“Kay? What’s going on?” Percival asks scaring Keira. She had forgotten that he had stayed home while Primrose went with dad.

 

“Don’t know exactly, Percy.”

 

The sugar smell covers the of tears but she knows that Anderson is crying. Her eleven-year-old walks up to the crying man.

 

“Do you need a hug? Dad says they help.”

 

Anderson looks so lost and dazed as he glances up at Percy that Keira is surprised when he nods. She moves back so that the two can hug while keeping a sharp eye on them.

 

She’s not sure how long they stay touching Anderson before dad comes home with Primrose.

 

“Philip?!?”

 

Keira and Percival step back to let their dad take over.

 

The seventeen-year-old watches as her father touches Anderson gently. Watches as he inhales Anderson’s scent and cups the Omega’s face so carefully. Her father treats Anderson like he treats his kids.

 

“You’re off your pills aren’t you?” she hears her dad ask. Anderson nods after a pause.

 

“Sylvia was worried. Said she read that it affected fertility.  She… She flushed them down the toilet. No more, she says, tore up my prescription.” 

 

Keira blinks. That doesn’t sound healthy. Quitting cold turkey could be very dangerous!

 

“She… I… I will be angry about that later. Don’t take this the wrong way but why are you here? Did something happen?”

 

She hears the unsaid ‘who do I need to arrest for upsetting you?’ Anderson doesn’t answer right away.

 

“She… She heard about… Sally… It wasn’t like… She was so angry.”

 

There are more tears and Keira watches as Anderson clings to her father. If he says more she can’t hear it.

 

Time passes awkwardly with Anderson here. And Keira is scared that if she looks away Anderson will drop dead. Stupid, she knows but withdrawal is terrible. She’s read enough pamphlets warning about going cold turkey on Fecund suppressants to know that.

 

It’s almost midnight when she finds out what Anderson had said to make her father clench his jaw and declare that Anderson was going to be staying the night and then in the morning he’d actually be moved into the spare bedroom. She’s passing her dad’s room, her bladder hates her, when she hears him talking to someone. There is anger and concern in his voice. It’s a combination that has her stopping to press her back against the wall to listen.

 

“She was abusing him, Sally! That’s something I needed to be told!”

 

Keira has to bite her lip to keep from gasping.

 

“I get you wanting him to trust you. That you wanted to be there for him however you could but Sally…”

 

He pauses.

 

“No, I’m not angry at you. Or him. Especially not him. I’m angry at her. I’m angry that I didn’t see it.”

 

Another pause that has Keira leaning forward.

 

“I’m a little impressed that you fooled Sherlock… Don’t be like that. He’s a good kid. You just got to get to know him.”

 

Sally actually getting to know Sherlock? Keira snorts then covers her mouth.

 

“Keira Elizabeth Lestrade, go to bed!”

 

“Yes, sir!”

 

Only she doesn’t go to bed, she goes to the guest room. Anderson is sleeping soundly in the not so good bed. His wife was abusing him? Her mind flashes to her mother and the verbal and emotional… distress she put her dad through. If she ever meets this Sylvia she may punch her.


	4. How I Was Broken? Anderson POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Warning! There is domestic violence in this chapter! Physical and emotion and verbal abuse! Nasty shit! If that ain't something you can read comfortably please skip. I don't want you to read it and be hurt.

Philip sits on the bed that Greg says is his. His hands shake like mini earthquakes. Withdrawal. Sylvia would be happy that he hadn’t taken the pills that Greg gave him right? She’d take him back. She loves him, she’s just mad because he messed up. With a groan, he places his head into his still shaking hands and wonders how his life spiralled so out of control.

* * *

 

 

_ “Hi, I’m Sylvia Anderson. What’s your name cutie?” _

 

_ “Philip Carter.” _

* * *

__   
__   
Everything was perfect! Sure Sylvia could be… harsh. But she was just trying to make him better. And really it’s why Sherlock’s insults never really hurt him. And yes sometimes she would cuff him upside his head, and maybe taking his suppressants like she had was a bit… bad. But she loves him.

* * *

 

 

_ He comes home, body aching from a long day at work and head throbbing because of Sherlock. The man just oozes Alpha pheromones without meaning to. How John copes with that, Philip doesn’t know. The scent of the man is thick and distracts Philip so thoroughly that he ends up making a fool of himself. It’s not that he finds Sherlock’s scent pleasing it’s that he can’t separate the man’s scent like he can the others. It makes him ner- _

 

_ “Philip we need to talk.” _

 

_ Those words never bode well for Philip. That tone. He’s done something wrong. He looks at her. So beautiful. So out of his league. Why did she choose him? Must be getting close to his Heat his thoughts are circling again. Heats and scent suppressants don’t mix well. With a mental shake of his head, he focuses on her. The way her black hair is pulled up into a bun, the way her brown eyes flash. She’s holding his suppressants in her hands. Both packets. The Heat and scent ones. _

 

_ “Philip! Are you listening to me?” _

 

_ “Of-” _

 

_ She grabs his ear with the hand not holding his pills and twists. _

 

_ “I like to think of myself as a Progressive. I try not to stick my nose in your business. You want to take suppressants, I support you. You smell of nothing and barely have any Heats meaning that there is a small chance of us having kids.” _

 

_ She’s sterile when it comes to bearing children. They had tried that first. She had wanted to watch her stomach grow round with his child and the suppressants he’s on aren’t birth control… though he has those too. Her hand moves from his ear to his hair. _

 

_ “I give you so much. Patience. Love,” she noses his cheek, her hand scratching his scalp, “I hate your non-scent. I hate it. You should smell like me. I’m your wife. Your  _ **_Mate_ ** _.” _

 

_ She stresses Mate in such a way it sends unpleasant shivers instead of good ones. There are little nips placed on his cheeks. _

 

_ “I look out for you don’t I? Not like a keeper. Never like one of those other Betas. The ones that restrict what you can or can’t do. The ones that keep you on your knees and fat with babies. And god I’d love to see you with mine… But…” _

 

_ She pulls back, shaking the pills. Her disappointed look is back on her face. It is like a punch to the gut. He hates it when she does that. _

 

_ “Baby, you  _ **_know_ ** _ I don’t want to be one of  _ **_those_ ** _ Betas but… They are dangerous! I was just reading about what they do to your health. It’s disgusting. They destroy your fertility. Absolutely destroy it. There are other ill effects of course.” _

 

_ She pets his hair, so gentle compared to what she did to his ear. In she leans, her breath tickling his face. Yup getting close to when his Heat would be hitting if not for- _

 

_ “You’re not going to take them anymore. Do you understand me? No more. We’re going to flush these.” _

 

_ “No! We can’t just-” _

 

_ He whimpers as she pulls on his hair. Her pretty face twisting, lip pulled back, brows furrowed. _

 

_ “You can’t! Withdraw is… Those are mine and I decide what to do with,” he says grabbing at them. It surprises him when she lets him take them. He holds them to his chest. _

 

_ “I’m an Omega and a cop! Do you know what could happen if I go in with shaking hands? Good god or smelling as what I am? Do you know what jobs the Omegas have? Not a field job!” _

 

_ Sylvia looks at him. Her eyes start to shine. _

 

_ “Phil… God, I’m sorry baby. I know you have reasons for taking them. I’m so sorry baby. Forgive me?” _

 

_ He tries to stand firm but she starts to cry. Mumbling about wanting children and being worried about him. She curls in on herself like a child who was scolded harshly. _

 

_ “I’m such an idiot.” _

 

_ Sally says she’s manipulating him. Making him feel like the bad guy when she pulls these shifts. That he has to start drawing lines in the sand. But watching her now… _

 

_ “We claim to be more civilized to have moved past-” _

 

_ “You’re not an idiot.” _

 

_ They both blink at his words. _

 

_ “Of course I am. Expecting you to just flush your pills for me. You have your job to consider,” she says that with a sad smile. _

 

_ He flinches at that. _

 

_ “I just worry about you. You know that.” _

 

_ “I do…” _

 

_ “I love you. And I want what is best for you.” _

 

_ Somehow she gets his pills from his hands. She doesn’t look like she’s ready to cry anymore and if it wasn't for the tear tracks he wouldn’t believe that she had. _

 

_ “So we’re going to flush these. Right?” _

 

_ She’s already halfway to the loo. He races after her, denial on his tongue. The toilet flushes. _

 

_ “Your Heat will be here soon, I can tell. Hopefully, those chemicals will be out of your system by then. Nasty things them.” _

 

_ It scares him how calm she is. He shouldn’t be scared of her. She grabs his face in both of her hands, keeping him there are she leans in. _

 

_ “Just think Phil babe. A baby.” _

 

_ Pregnancies conceived during a Heat are actually less viable than any other. While an Omega is more fertile and while once upon a time it was the best time that biological feature is no longer the best option… not that it ever was for male Omegas. She knows this. He’s told her that before. _

 

_ “My baby.” _

* * *

 

 

There is a knock on the door. He looks up and sees Primrose standing in the doorway. She’s biting her lip and holding a cup of coffee in her hands. It’s hard to believe that she’s eleven now, harder to believe that Kiera is seventeen.

 

“I brought you some coffee Mister Anderson. Da said it’s just the way you like it.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

She brings it to him before sitting on the bed with him. She has her mum’s hair but her dad’s eyes and those eyes stare at him like they see everything.

 

“Are you okay, Mister Anderson? I mean I know you were so good yesterday but your better now right?”

 

He could lie to her. Tell her that he’s fine and that yesterday was a fluke. He should lie to her. That’s what you do with kids right? Wrap them in bubble wrap and keep the darkness that is the world away. It’s there on his tongue. Lie. He’s gotten good at that, hasn’t he?

 

“I’m getting there,” he says instead. Gently, like he’ll break if she touches him with a firmer touch.

 

“We’ll get you all better. Da is good at that. We did it with Uncle Sherlock, we can do it with you.”

 

With that, she springs up and leaves him alone. Can he get better? It doesn’t feel as if he can. His ribs are aching from where Sylvia expressed her unhappiness at him. What kind of man stands there and lets their wife hit them? Kick them? Scream at them for something they didn’t do?

* * *

 

 

_ The first hit doubles him over. It catches him off guard but then so much is catching him off guard these days. The torn up prescription is in his pocket teasing him that there is no relief. He’s gotten good at hiding his condition. Sally saw through it. She always sees through it. Came over while Sylvia was at work. They had played like children, at one point Sally even crawled on the floor looking for a game piece. No one on the force would believe it. Two adults destressing by acting like children? Two adults who let the outside world believe that they are having an affair because the thought of them knowing that he was weak. That he was an Omega whose Mate hit him on occasion and could speak so harshly to him that sometimes… sometimes he wondered why he tried at all wasn’t something he could stomach. _

 

_ Sylvia takes advantage of him being lost in thought hitting him over and over in the stomach. She never hits his face. She has never hit him like this… Well, there was that once but he deserved it. _

 

_ “An affair! You’re cheating on me!?” she says in that calm voice that echoes around his head. The scent that is pouring off of her is threatening to drown him. That angry slag metal smell coats her covering the scent of pineapple, coconut, and chocolate. The tropical scent that usually calms him is making his head feel all so fuzzy as she yells without yelling. As she tears into him so soundly. Finally, she stops her chest heaving and hands clenched. _

 

_ “I defended your honor. Told those who called you a whore they were wrong. And then I hear from one of your coworkers that you’re cheating on me. Cheating on me with Donovan of people… I can’t look at you. Leave. Go. Or else they’ll have to lock me up.” _

 

_ Once upon a time Betas had the right to punish Omegas who cheated on them however they wished. Once upon a time, the mere rumor of an unfaithful Omega was a death warrant. Sylvia made sure he knew that, knew how lucky he was that she wasn’t a Beta who thought those laws should come back. He stands, wobbly and off center. The stress of everything compounding into a deep fog. _

 

_ “If I smell her on you again, I’ll do something we’ll both regret.” _

* * *

 

 

The cup in his hands is warm and it grounds him. Maybe he can be made better, heal. But to have that weight be placed on Greg…

 

“Philip breakfast! Come on now!”

 

For now, he’ll stay. Then before he wears his welcome out he’ll leave.


End file.
